Tuesday, January 06, 2009

A friend of mine got this cool feature on his phone which allows him to tune-in to a lot of regional radio stations that is otherwise unavailable. I somehow decided to tune-in to a malayalam station and turns out they were playing an old, forgotten tune, followed by yet another. And then I suddenly remembered this one while aimlessly humming in the loo (it's a Hindi one this time, so go ahead and click on the link (in case you belong to the unfortunate group of i-can't-understand-malayalam-and-i-am-not-bothered)).

My heart suddenly warmed up to the so called old-fashioned, courtly love. Maybe it's because of these people at work who are already getting worked up thinking of Valentine's day. I am sick of love so loud; love predictably marked by a million red roses and expensive clothes and chocolate. I am tired of everyone sleeping around with everyone else and then bitching endlessly about hypocrites. I don't want to see another movie where love is all hearts outpouring and melodramatic.

How about just a little weakness in the knees, a sudden warmth inside, the faintest trembling of the heart, or something less?

2 comments:

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It’s so weird when people ask you who you are and you end up offering details about what you do.
I am still figuring out who I am but I'll tell you some of what I do. I work. I write. I read. I love poetry. I am single, but sometimes I am plural. I am different people rolled into one. I am cynical. I am passionate. I love early mornings. I love late nights. I hate what comes in between. I love music. I love theatre. I can’t stand melodrama. I cannot live or survive or even exist without coffee.
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